


Submission

by Jodlet



Category: Assassin's Creed
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-25
Updated: 2014-02-25
Packaged: 2018-01-13 18:41:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,762
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1236934
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jodlet/pseuds/Jodlet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Altair lets Malik top. PWP.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Submission

**Author's Note:**

> Old work. Like it, love it, loathe it.

Sometimes, when Malik was yelling at him or cursing him or throwing things at him, Altaïr would let his mind wander. The words would fade out and he would focus in on the Dai’s face; how wild his dark eyes were, flashing angrily the same way they flashed in the heat of passion. He liked it when Malik’s lips parted, when Malik grabbed him desperately and pulled their bodies closer together – liked the orders the man gave; deeper – harder – faster!

He liked the rough hardness of him, the hard scratch of stubble that accentuated every kiss or bite, sword calloused fingers that bruised and all that beautifully dark skin…like a fine, smooth sheath that covered hard steel. And although Malik was always the one to submit, he was never soft like a woman, wouldn’t flake and breakdown or cry because it was all ‘so beautifully emotional’. He didn’t want to talk excessively afterwards either. “Altaïr! Are you even listening to me?! No, of course you are not – judging by how tight your trousers are.” Malik threw his hand into the air and shook his head in irritation, “Why do I bother?”

“Because if you did not shout at me - no one else would.” Altaïr answered as he stood from the pillows he had been resting against, “I would go unchallenged, my ego would swell, I might decide that running off to Cyprus again might be fun…less tedious than being Master – oh, and because deep down, you know you enjoy telling me my fortunes.” Malik watched him carefully from the doorway; every word that left those scarred lips was accompanied by a powerful, sinuous step toward him. Golden eyes glinting lustfully from the shadow of the Assassin's hood were enough to make Malik stand a little straighter, made him lift his chin higher in defiance and set his expression. “Forgive me, Malik…I will not start anymore fights with the local soldiers.”

“No, you will not.” The man agreed and then turned on his heel to return to his work, easily brushing off Altaïr’s fingers as they reached for his coat, “And stop leaving your robes all over my floor! I am busy – use your own hand if you are so desperate.” Altaïr growled under his breath and watched as the other went behind the safety of his bureau counter, picking up his damn compass and settling into what was going to be a long session. Now he would have to convince Malik that he too wanted release, that this type of work could wait and that having sex with his dearest friend was far more important than some tactical escape route for a high priority mission. The younger Assassin followed Malik’s footsteps, sauntering around the counter to stand beside his long time lover and he smirked slightly as he ran his hand across Malik’s belly toward the man’s groin. A loud thud echoed throughout the empty bureau and Altaïr found himself half thrown over the counter with a firm grip pressing down on his throat, “Which part of, ‘I am busy’ confused you, Novice?”

He didn’t release his grip, simply stared at the paper that lay next to the man as if nothing had changed. The grip wasn’t enough to obscure the man’s breathing but Altaïr knew that there was no way to escape it without injuring himself – Malik only had one hand but he knew how to immobilise with only his thumb pressed in the correct place. He loved it – really fucking loved it – it was the thing that turned him on the most. The challenge that was Malik and then the reward when he conquered the man…without truly ever breaking him. Perhaps it was the calm demeanour, the way Malik was holding him there but so blatantly uncaring of the fact, like he was simply holding a quill that wasn’t needed. Or the way that Malik often bested him, kept challenging him and wearing him down to nothing short of animalistic. “Malik…”

“Not now.” The way he made Altaïr feel so insignificant and small. He liked that the most, liked that in this world where he was the best, the Master and Commander – Malik made him feel like nothing. An underlying threat of, ‘I LET you take control’. What would it truly be like if he bent to this man’s will…the thought only made his trousers seem tighter.

“Malik…please, please…” Perhaps it was some sort of mind trick Malik had played on him that made him practically mewl the request, “…Fuck me.” 

He had been working too hard, he was probably laid out on the floor with pigeons pecking at him and Altaïr would walk into the bureau probably to laugh, ‘I told you so’. The Dai looked him dead in the eye and blinked slowly as the words seeped through his skin and crawled like icy fingers through his veins – he had topped a few partners in his younger days, when experimenting was more fun, in fact Altaïr was the first to take him…he had never thought that Altaïr would roll over for him. Willingly. Especially since Altaïr always fought so hard to dominate him. Wouldn’t it be fun to have him on his back, legs spread wantonly as he moaned and writhed as Malik pillaged and stretched him open? Had anyone even had the Assassin beneath them…he didn’t think so – couldn’t see Altaïr submitting to anyone. “Did you fall off a building?” he teased a little, letting his hand slide over the course grey top Altaïr wore beneath his robes until he could meld his palm over the bulge in his trousers, “Has your incompetent little brain hit your skull one too many times?”

Altaïr huffed at the insult but let it go, instead rocking his hips up into the Dai’s hand and closing his eyes at the sensation, “Maybe I am tired of doing all the work whilst you lay there like a woman.” And somehow, through the pleasant fog of having his cock fondled – Altaïr found himself falling backwards off the counter with a strong push. He instinctively rolled when he realised what was happening and softened his fall, once he pulled his senses together and looked up he couldn’t help the sour look that crossed his face, “Bastard.” The curse did nothing to move the self satisfied smirk on Malik’s face, in fact it seemed to make him appear far more pleased, “If you are not capable than you could have just said.”

“Oh I am capable. I just do not find the idea all that appealing; your body hardly seems a fair swap for all the work I will have to put in subduing you, I do not think you are capable of being controlled – you do not understand obedience.” Malik enjoyed how annoyed the other looked, it was too easy to wind him up and despite his outward image of not being affected by words of others – Altaïr was a very sensitive soul. “You do not know how to submit.”

“I promise I would submit to you.” It was an honest admission, he felt no shame in bending over for this man, what shame was there in letting someone equal to you – no – better than you, have full reign? And for the first time in his life, Altaïr wanted to be held down and controlled, he wanting to feel the burn of being stretched over Malik’s hard length.

“It was a nice thought, Altaïr…now I really am busy.” The Dai wanted to see what else Altaïr would do, to see how desperate he was for this little fantasy, his own erection was becoming prominent and he hated to admit that he was very much tempted – he just liked to make Altaïr angry. As he scrawled across his paper he heard a slight murmur come from the Assassin, at first it did not bother him but then it seeped in…at first niggling at him and then actually searing his body as the murmur sounded louder and louder in his head. Malik dropped his compass with a loud clatter as he stalked around the counter toward the man, “What did you just say, brother?”

Altaïr was half way up when he was approached by the other and he had the decency to widen his eyes in fear of the one looming over him. He preferred when Malik yelled at him, this quiet, falsely calm, voice made his body chill and his skin prickle. The nearly black eyes were the worst – what was usually two endless pools of molten brown were like stone walls now. “I did not mean –” his head whipped to the left violently and he took the hint to quiet himself. 

Malik’s raised hand turned to a fist and he was tempted to offer Altaïr more than the back of his hand, “You…” he didn’t even know how to reply, didn’t know what to say without going too far and ruining their still healing relationship. “Fine. We will see how well your control is, you will do everything I tell you and if – IF – you manage to succeed I will fulfil your request.” He watched Altaïr mull it over in his mind, the man’s own fists clenched in an effort not to retaliate, “Strip.” Came the surly command as Malik returned to his papers, carefully picking up his tools and returning them to their carry case. Altaïr took a few deep breaths to calm himself, he couldn’t say he didn’t deserve the strike but it was difficult not to react, not to start a fight…it made him angry but at the same time it was humbling. 

He started to get up again but a sharp command from Malik had him stopped on his knees, “You would have me silent?” Malik didn’t answer him as he continued to tidy his work away, “Malik?” 

The Dai walked back over to the Assassin and caught his stubble jaw in his fingers, crushing the strong bone beneath as he got into his face, “I thought you were going to be obedient? Are you not even capable of keeping your mouth closed, Novice? Must I break your jaw?” he felt the slight shiver run through the younger man and smirked, “I should have known you would enjoy the threat.” Pressing his mouth against Altaïr’s briefly, Malik pushed his face away and enjoyed the reddening marks on the tanned skin, “The only noises I want to hear from you are moans and screams.” 

Altaïr watched the man take a seat at the desk beside the counter and pulled his top over his head, clenching his jaw muscles at the ache as he worked the tie on his trousers and released his hard erection to the cool air of the bureau. “Stroke yourself.” Shaking his head at the sheer disinterest in his partner, Altaïr met Malik’s eyes and decided he might as well go along with it – perhaps it would calm the Dai’s mood. He opened his mouth to speak but shut it quickly as he remembered his order, instead he licked his lips and trailed his fingertips down over his stomach – he hated being watched by Malik; it was like the man was judging his every movement – he grasped his cock and began rubbing himself in a slow rhythm. A small noise bubbling up his throat as the little electric shocks began shooting through his body, somehow having those dark eyes on him Altaïr felt his body flush a little hotter, his thumb rolled over his leaking head and he shuddered. “Come here – no.” Malik’s lips twitched in a smile, “Crawl.”

“Ma…” he clenched his teeth at the warning look and glared at the ground. This was more than a test of obedience, Malik was trying to make him angry, he wanted him to fail so that Malik could deny him. leaning forward he placed his palm down on the stone floor and then the other, his naked knees following as he slowly made his way toward the older man, every scrape on his skin adding insult to his pride that was straining already. Malik had discarded his coat, his belt and was expertly undoing the clasps of his robes; he nodded at his trousers hoping that Altaïr would get the hint. Deciding that he wanted Malik to be reduced to a quivering mess, Altaïr placed a hand on each of the older man’s knees and practically nuzzled his crotch, his lips parted so that he could mouth the strong outline of a straining erection. He sucked hard through the material until he had Malik panting lightly above him and then he caught the tie between his teeth.

Watching Altaïr pull the lace from their holes with his teeth made Malik twitch, made his previous anger begin to wane and he let out a careful breath whilst taking the tie from Altaïr’s mouth. He placed it beside him and gently stroked through the Assassin's hair, “Is it really so hard to do as you are told?”

“Says yo –” another snap of his head made him growl angrily; he did not enjoy being backhanded like a common housewife!

Chuckling at the angry noise, Malik spread his knees and leant back against the desk a little, “Your eyes are absolutely shining with loathing, I can see how badly you want to hit me back but you have a point to prove and a promise to keep. Now be a good novice and show me how much you want me.” Altaïr bit the inside of his cheek and tried not to hold onto his anger, he had promised to submit and he knew Malik was winding him up on purpose. He palmed Malik’s crotch gently, pulling out the engorged member once he was certain he wouldn’t try to damage him – though it still seemed like a wonderful idea. “Are you going to stare at it all night?” with a shake of his head he gave a bold swipe of his tongue across the Dai’s tip.

Wrapping his lips around only the head, Altaïr began to work his tongue in slow circles that occasionally stabbed into the sensitive slit of the man above him, enjoying the appreciative groans and the soft touch in his hair. He removed his mouth with a soft pop, he kissed his way down the shaft, watching Malik carefully under his eyelashes and liking the twitch in his jaw every time the older man saw a hint of pink tongue laving his cock with attention. Altaïr nuzzled his lap attentively, nipping at his inner thigh before sucking hungrily at the Dai’s balls, “Stop teasing, Novice.” Came Malik’s breathy pant, “Or are you go – che! Bastard…nngh.” There was nothing he could do; Altaïr had him, quite literally, by the balls. And he was being downright scary with his teeth; he had the prominent vein on the underside of Malik’s length between his teeth, he was nibbling and sucking his way back up to the head but he was taking his sweet time. Malik glared down at him, hesitant to grab him or thrust his hips for fear of those jaws closing down, “Altaïr…” it was halfway between a moan and a warning, the Assassin gave a satisfied smirk before opening his mouth and swallowing the Dai with practised ease; his free hand working himself into a moaning mess with every stroke.

Panting heavily, Malik pushed Altaïr’s head away – shocked that the Master tried to resist and take him back in, his tongue stretched out to give the head a final flick before he did as he was told. “Slut.” Malik watched the younger man rub himself for a moment longer before dangling the string from his trousers in front of his golden eyes, “Tie this around yourself.” His eyes widened at the order and he was tempted to refuse, to just give in and prove Malik right, the string was wiggled at him teasingly and he snatched it with a quiet growl. He was already aching and all he wanted was a good lay. Not to be humiliated and forced to stop his own orgasm, “Do not look so sour, learn a little patience and I promise you will not regret it.” Malik gave a quick glance around the dark room, this light wouldn’t do and there was no where comfortable, “Go into the other room and wait for me.” Altaïr stood about to go but let out a groan as a firm hand squeezed his shaft, tugging at the tie, “Good.”

The Dai threw his robes onto the desk and was about to blow out the candle on the desk when a thought came to him. Grinning as he entered the room, widening slightly at the nervous look cast his way and how Altaïr shifted on the pillows. “Why the candle? The moon is bright in here…” nervous enough to forget not to speak apparently. 

“Do you like being hit?” Altaïr shook his head slowly, “Lie back more…like that.” He had the man reclined on one of the larger cushions; his legs were parted slightly, prick standing up proud and flushed between them. Every muscle in his stomach was tensed and twitching as he panted lightly – he had no idea what Malik was going to do next and it set him on edge. And the Dai loved it. He knelt down between the tanned legs, placing the candle to the side; Altaïr shifted his legs to make more room for his partner and flinched a little when their bodies were flush together, Malik’s palm stroked his hip soothingly. “You are acting like a skittish colt, Altaïr…I have done this before.” He leant forward and pressed their lips together, the Assassin's tongue wasted no time in pushing into the Dai’s mouth and pushing the wet muscles together eagerly. They both moaned as their erections rubbed together and the older man tore away to sit up, pulling Altaïr’s body down toward him a little more and picking up the candle again, “Now. The candle is not here to serve as a light source; I was – oops.” A drop of wax fell from the candle and splashed on Altaïr’s stomach, the white substance running down his chest before hardening, “my hand is not as steady the – oh…again.” Altaïr arched his back as the hot wax ran over his nipple, the action caused him to rub his length against Malik’s and this time the large dollop of wax that fell was accidental.

“Malik…agh!” his muscles twitched violently as the wax ran down the lines of his abs, the closer it was poured to his skin the more it burnt and the more he rolled his hips against Malik. The candle travelled to his chest again and the Dai took his time in tipping the wax out onto his skin, sometimes he would let it pool and drip down his ribs and sometimes it would splash and splatter, “Malik.” It was a broken moan; one that he had been making for a long time and between making him arch and whimper, Malik couldn’t remember when he’d begun this little torture. “Malik!” the older man looked away from his dappled chest to find out what was so damn important, “Please…let me come.” Dark eyes shifted down to the engorged member that was so hard and flushed that it was nearly touching his stomach, “Please, it aches Malik, please.” 

“I got carried away…but you beg so prettily.” Altaïr’s knuckles had turned white as they gripped the rug under his fingers, some of the wax had cracked along his body and he was looking so desperate. Taking both their cocks in his hand Malik began to stroke them both in quick steady jerks; the room filled with their moans and mewls, Altaïr’s hands reached for the tie and his fingers fumbled uselessly. Malik rolled his hips a little harder, groaning at the delicious sensations whipping through him until he gasped and came – his essence spilling out, a few drops joining the wax on Altaïr’s stomach and the rest covering their hands. The younger man whimpered quietly as he finally removed the string from the base of his cock, the pre come drooling down his member as he begged to be touched – to be allowed to come. Malik rubbed his palm across the head of the other’s dick and watched in fascination as Altaïr cried out loudly, his body lifting from the rug in a back breaking arch; the vicious release splattered against the Dai’s hand and left him gasping for air.

The older man sat back to admire his work, the sight of wax and come all over Altaïr’s torso was enough to make him feel the heat in his belly again. He ran his hand up the other’s body, smearing their juices together before offering it to Altaïr; he groaned incoherently but slipped his tongue out to lap at Malik’s palm. “I know you probably want to sleep but you have been surprisingly…obedient. I thought for sure you would crack.” Altaïr grabbed his wrist when he attempted to remove it and continued running his tongue over soiled fingers, “I never thought you would be such a whore either.” Malik let the Assassin do as he pleased for a few minutes; it mostly consisted of calming his frantic pants and sucking lewdly on two of the older man’s fingers until he pulled him down for a kiss. Altaïr was one of those lovers that needed everything fast and desperate for the first round, once he came he was content to take his time like a spoilt cat and either curl up to sleep or fuck the nearest thing to within an inch of its life. He sucked on Malik’s bottom lip, teasing with his tongue and making the older man cover his scarred lips to deepen the kiss, both massaging their tongues at a leisurely pace before Malik pulled back and coaxed Altaïr up onto his knees and then turn around so that his arse was presented. “Not that I want brag later or anything – have you done this before?”

“…No.” even if he hadn’t of spoken the Dai could tell plainly by the tense limbs and every miniscule jump of hard muscle when he was touched. Stroking his back soothingly, Malik stared at his prize and brought his fingers down to rub at the spilt seed that had run down over his balls and thighs, he gathered a little of it and brought it up to Altaïr’s waiting hole. He pushed gently at first, just to make Altaïr gasp and straighten up, he settled for smearing the slippery substance around the muscle, rubbing against all those wonderful nerves that Altaïr had no idea were there, “If…if I knew it would feel so good – I would have asked you sooner…” Altaïr groaned quietly, he was completely out of his depth and even though he knew how to prepare someone; he had no idea what he would feel. 

“Do you think I would let you do it to me if it did not feel good? Although you seem incredibly sensitive, brother.” He pressed lightly again to elicit a contented noise, “Maybe you were made to be fucked…” Malik smirked at he stared at the clear expanse of back, littered with scars here and there but he wanted to do something decorative, reaching for the candle he had left burning by Altaïr’s head he was taken aback when he felt a gust of wind against his skin and the flame went out. The tanned man glanced back at him with a smug smirk after blowing out the candle; Malik clicked his tongue and grabbed it regardless, spilling the wax carelessly across Altaïr’s back. His back bowed accompanied by a hiss and a groan, some of the wax dripped down his ribs and to the rug below, “That was just rude.”

Altaïr chuckled lowly, “I did not want you getting carried away ag – A…ah – Ma - Maliik…!” he mewled deeply, his fists curling into the rug as a long finger pushed inside him and wriggled a little, “N…not a…not a good lubricant choice…hah…nngh Malik!”

“You know…I never gave you permission to speak, do me the honour of keeping your mouth shut.” Backseat lovers. Feeling how tight the other was around just his finger made Malik sigh silently, he was getting harder by the second but this would take care – especially if he wanted to do this again. Removing his finger he leant over Altaïr’s body, mouth lavishing his neck with attention as he felt around the cushions for the oil they practically had shares in, the younger man reached under the pillow he was abusing with nervous fists and passed the jar over after undoing the lid, a soft nip served as a thank you and the wonderful heat and weight of Malik was gone. He felt cold, of course he knew the other was behind him but that didn’t make him feel any less exposed or less unsure. Malik held the jar high and let a small stream of oil topple out, Altaïr released another of those strangled noises as the clear liquid rolled down the cleft of his arse, over his balls and down the backs of his thighs – he shivered at the cold sensation and promised in his mind that when he next took Malik he would not be gentle. Once again he felt the pressure against his hole and relaxed slightly to let the intruding digit in, this time it was easier and slid in and out easily.

Satisfied that Altaïr was not going to turn around and deck him, Malik gently wriggled a second finger along side the other; he paused at the slight tensing around his fingers and let Altaïr exhale heavily into the large cushion he was leant against. If it was this bad like this then Malik honestly didn’t know how he was going to fit his cock without tearing him open, he wished he had his other arm to soothe the man and all he could offer in comfort was quiet words and patience as he twisted, scissored and pistoned his fingers. “Malik…please…more – more.” The Dai’s eyes widened slightly as Altaïr began to rock back and forth onto his fingers, “It is not enough.”

“Does it not hurt?” 

“No…barely, not enough for you to be so careful,” he replied through tiny moans as he pushed harder against the other’s hand. He cried out a little louder as a third finger joined the others and delved deeper, stretched him further with a slight burn – a little deeper and he was sure – there. The younger man’s arms collapsed from beneath him and he let out a long languid moan that almost sounded like the Dai’s name, his hips thrust back so that his prostate was jabbed again; his body relaxed through the pleasure until he was practically swallowing those wonderful, amazing, clever clever fingers. “I want you, now…I did as you asked…please, God! I will let you cover me in wax, hit me – I do not care! Just…fuck me!” Malik marvelled at how sensitive Altaïr was, how easily he was begging- calling to a Deity he didn’t believe in - to be filled and how much he wanted to submit. The darker man slicked his now throbbing length after a loud protest of his fingers being removed; he rubbed himself along the taut arse before him but went no further after another small protest. Altaïr was the quietest man he knew but for some reason the man would not shut up today! “Let me face you.”

“This way will be better for you…” he muttered breathily as he continued to rub against him.

“I do not want to be a faceless whore to you.” Hearing Malik chuckle, Altaïr flushed slightly, he didn’t like the idea of being fucked from behind and feeling like another faceless lover in Malik’s history. 

A sharp smack landed on his arse cheek and the Assassin yelped in surprise, “Very well.” Altaïr shifted over onto his back, his arms aching slightly from holding him up but more comfortable to let him lean back on and his erection once again prominent and proud between he spread legs. Malik grasped the other’s left thigh and lifted it to hook over his shoulder, the other followed instinctively by resting on his hip, “Anymore requests, Novice?” Malik asked as he once again positioned himself against the twitching and puckered entrance. Altaïr shook his head and relaxed as much as he could – it wouldn’t be so bad. Pushing forward the Dai was torn between watching his prick stretch Altaïr and watching the man for signs that he should stop, the former won out and he was drawn to the tight little ring stretching tauter and tauter over his slick length until his head was swallowed and all he wanted to do was thrust further in. It had been so long! Being squeezed so tightly in that velvety heat.

If not for the painful clench of Altaïr’s inner walls he would have continued without a thought. He tore his eyes away from their joined bodies and paid attention to the younger man who didn’t seem to be sharing the feeling of rapture. Altaïr’s head was thrown back, his teeth clenched, eyes screwed shut and his grip nearly tearing the rug beneath him, three fingers was nothing compared to this! The stretch hurt and although the oil made movement easier it did not soothe the obscene pull of such a small hole being filled with such a large cock. He panted hard through his teeth and after a moment of adjusting to the burn he lifted his head and peered at Malik through sooty eyelashes, “J…just…move.” He ground out with a little effort, “I w-will get…used to it.” The Dai kissed his thigh gently and pushed further in, his critical gaze never leaving the glint of gold he could see through dark lashes, he settled again once he was fully sheathed to let Altaïr pant and whine as he pleased. If it took all night then so be it – anything to be able to thrust in and out as he pleased and have the young Master screaming.

“You feel amazing…better than anything.” Malik pulled out a little and thrust back in jerkily, “Hot, tight…you should see the way this greedy little hole grips my cock as I pull out and,” he pulled a little further out this time, “How eagerly it swallows me up again.” His thrust was accentuated with a harsh cry being ripped from Altaïr’s throat, “I take it back – fucking you is worth tenfold the trouble of subduing you. Even better that you begged for this.” He lifted the tanned leg a little higher over his shoulder and revelled in the loud, desperate, near scream that came from the other; Altaïr’s hand abandoned the grip he had on the rug to wrap around his dick, moaning as the stretch became a little more bearable. “You seem to enjoy being filled, will you make rolling over a new habit of yours?”

Altaïr let his elbows drop and groaned as his prostate was brushed again, his head digging into the cool silk of the cushion behind him, his hips beginning to rock up against Malik’s as the pain subsided quickly. “For you…” he gasped and pushed his hips up against the other, “I will roll over for you…” squeezing his throbbing cock a little tighter, Altaïr moaned loudly again and clenched around the intruding organ – loving how it Malik thrust a little harder and the shots of fire it sent hurtling through his body. The role reversal had seemed strange at the start but now that he could feel that heavy cock rubbing his insides, the burn of being pulled tight over the same cock and the constant attention to his prostate, he couldn’t think of ever having sex any other way – didn’t want anything but this! “Nngh! F-fu…ck…fuck me!” he ordered, voice thick with lust. Malik smirked, that didn’t take long, how surprising Altaïr was getting so swept up, his head was thrashing from side to side, the hand that wasn’t fisting his length was clawing at the Dai’s hips to bring him closer and those beautifully lewd sounds were sinful.

Their moans, mewls, whines and cries filled the entire bureau as their rutting became frenzied and both were fuelled by instinct and the craving for that moment where the world stopped spinning and everything shattered around them. The sweat slicking their bodies stung the scratched they were gradually giving each other in the desperate attempt to communicate ‘faster, harder, more, more – MORE!’ Malik stiffened first, biting into Altaïr’s thigh as his body locked and he thrust as deep as he could as climax shredded through him. He vaguely heard the scream beneath him as Altaïr felt the hot seed spill inside him and came hard into his hand, more of the substance spattering across his stomach and chest. Whilst the younger went through the throes of aftershocks, his body twitching and clutching around Malik’s softening member, the older man lapped at the bleeding wound he had made with his teeth and stroked the other soothingly as he lowered his legs and pulled out tiredly.

He would have to get them both up early, Altaïr would take longer to clean up – he was a picture. Flushed tan, scarred skin was glistening in the fading light of the moon, a mixture of their seed and rivulets of dried wax were going to take some effort to remove, the best view was the pink, stretched and still twitching and clenching hole leaking oil and come onto the rug beneath. The Dai was impressed with the mess he had made and he hid a smirk as his wicked dark eyes settled on something within reach.

Altaïr opened his eyes a crack when he felt a cold splash on his skin, he was too content and satisfied to fight whatever cruel deed was being done but he did send a questioning glazed look to the other when he realised his was holding a pink spoon, with the yoghurt he had been eating earlier, dripping the treat onto his chest. “Ugh…stop reading those Y! and DA manuscripts from that odd market stall…”


End file.
